What If I Told You?
by germanpotatoes
Summary: When Russia declares war on America, he is left with nobody to turn to. All sorts of secrets are building up inside his head that he just can't say. Includes usuk and other implied pairings. Rated T for the occasional cuss word and quite a bit of violence.
1. Chapter 1

**((HALLO! haha sorry I kinda abandoned my other fanfic. I got bored with it. But I promise this one will be good! I am adding a few head canons in here, so sorry if the storyline seems odd. Anyway like I said this should be a consistent fanfic because its usuk, and that is my ABSOLUE FAVORITE SHIP MEGA OTP RIGHT THERE. Its just so perfect ^.^ so yeah, have fun reading. Updates may be a little slow cuz lets face it I take forever to write anything. ENJOY~))**

Another blasted world meeting. This means being shut in a room full of bickering, obnoxious countries from all over the world, talking in their thick accents. Usually, the United States was one of the most rude. But today, America did _not_ want to deal with it. Russia had declared war on him a month ago, and he was practically in ruins. He was getting beaten, and bad. He hadn't told a single country, however. Russia had threatened to end it all with the blink of an eye if America tried to tell the others. So, he had no help in this war. Soon, though, someone would find out. He had to tell someone, for his people. Maybe today?

_Possibly._ Alfred thought to himself as he rolled out of bed. He looked at his clock, which read nine-thirty. The meeting was at noon, tomorrow, and he had to travel to Japan for it. With a sigh he grabbed his glasses off the night stand and put them on, blinking a few times at the dirtiness of the lenses. He never really cleaned his glasses, in fact he really didn't care. He turned to his dresser and pulled out a pair of tan dress pants, tan suit and green tie. He then trudged into the bathroom to go clean himself up.

_God, what's the point? _He asked himself, looking at his reflection in the mirror, drained of any sort of motivation. He sluggishly proceeded with his morning routine, brushing his teeth, getting dressed, combing his hair... Once he was done, his eyes fell upon his reflection in the mirror. He studied his own features; icy blue eyes, golden hair, what used to be tan but now pale skin. He was a mess. He stared at himself for a solid ten minutes, never shifting his gaze. He jumped slightly when his cell phone suddenly started to ring. He fumbled with the phone to answer it, and pressed it to his ear.

"Yo."

"Hello, git. Are you coming to the meeting tomorrow?" A familiar British voice asked.

"Ah, hi Iggy. I don't know. Probably." A smile grew on Alfred's face.

"I told you not to call me that! ...and, well, I was wondering if, perhaps, we could travel there together? Since I'm here in America."

Alfred made a face, "Sure but...why are you here?"

"Th-th-that's not important, you twat!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Yeesh, okay okay. You in NYC?"

"Yes. I'm actually on my way to your house now."

"Oh. Okay dude. We can just leave from here, then...isn't the meeting in Japan?"

"Mhmm. I assume you can get tickets for the plane?"

"Well, I only have one ticket, but I'm sure I can make something work."

"Alright. Thank you. I'll see you in a bit, then. Bye." And with that, Arthur hung up the phone. Now Alfred had the motivation to go, his best friend was going with him. Wait, best friend...? Sure, Arthur was Alfred's best friend, but did Arthur really look at him as a best friend? Well, if he traveled all the way to New York, just to go to the meeting with him, that surely confirmed their friendship, right? Alfred sighed and put on his bomber jacket. He started to pack his duffel bag full of hamburgers and clothes for the trip. Once finished, he waited by the door for Arthur.

Arthur walked quickly down the streets of New York. He decided to travel with Alfred because he knew he was troubled by something, and was quite concerned. He planned on staying a week or two in this bloody country to make sure Alfred was alright and comforted. He really didn't like to admit how much he cared for Alfred, even after his independence. In a way he wished he could show that he really didn't hate Alfred, but after so long of him believing so, Alfred would never believe it.

_Ha, what am I thinking?_ Arthur wiped the thoughts from his mind and lowered his gaze to the ground. He looked up when America's house came into view. The house was rather pleasant, not to big but not to small. Arthur pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. It was getting cold, even though it hadn't started to snow yet. Winter was just beginning. He looked as his breath turned into visible vapor in front of him. Soon he reached the door of Alfred's house, giving it a soft knock. The door swung open, a tall American standing in the door frame, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Hey," Alfred greeted the Brit in a hoarse voice.

"Hello." Arthur gave a slight smile. "You ready to go?" he asked, looking at how the American was dressed. No winter clothes. "Are you going to be warm enough in that..?," he added.

Al looked down at his clothes. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Let's go." He stepped outside and closed the door. "I have warmer stuff in my bag just in case." He reassured.

"Well, alright." Arthur cleared his throat and started to trot in the direction of the air port. Alfred walked next to him, staying unusually quiet. What was he supposed to say without giving his secret away? But if he was too quiet, Arthur would surely suspect something. He thought about various lines for a minute or so but was interrupted.

"Something bothering you, Alfred?" Arthur was looking at him now, worried about how quiet he was. Alfred was always loud and obnoxious. Now Arthur _knew _that something was wrong. Something really bad.

"Huh...? Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine!" Alfred laughed nervously.

Arthur shot him a look, "You're a horrible liar." He scoffed. Seriously, what was bothering him so much that he couldn't even say?

Alfred's breaths turned shaky, and his smile quickly faded. "I..." He couldn't. He couldn't dare let his secret get out. His people would be in danger, and there would be nothing he could do about it. By now he had stopped walking and was just standing there on the side of the street, Arthur standing in front of him. Everything seemed to be quiet and distant now.

"Are you going to give me an answer?" Arthur asked in a soft voice after several moments of silence. Alfred was just staring him in the eyes, his mouth opening but no words escaping.

Alfred snapped back to reality and quickly shook his head. "We can talk about this on the plane maybe. But for now I can't tell you..." He whispered, looking around. That's when Arthur understood that this was a _serious_ problem. He gave a blank nod. The two then continued walking into the brisk winter air, completely silent the rest of the way to the airport.

* * *

The plane didn't have many people on it. Not in first class, anyway. Alfred and Arthur sat next to each other, Arthur nearest to the window. The plane hadn't taken off yet and some people were still boarding. Arthur was anticipating Alfred telling him his problem so he could set off to help. He wanted the old America back, not this gloomy and hurt man. It was eerie, actually, seeing how horrid Alfred seemed. He sighed and tapped the American's shoulder. Alfred turned his head to look at England.

"Are you ready to tell me what's bothering you yet?"

"..wait for the plane to take off. Then I promise I'll tell you. Okay?" The American asked, forcing a smile.

"Okay..." Arthur returned the smile and placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "What ever it is that's bothering you, I'll be there to help, alright?" he said in a kind and reassuring voice.

America was shocked, but in a way relieved. Arthur would really help him through this? He could've never imagined that him of all people would help. Didn't Arthur hate his guts? But then again, he wanted England's help more than anyone else's. "Thanks, Iggy." he said in almost a whisper.

"You're welcome," Arthur turned back to the window, his hand still grasping Alfred's shoulder. He really did want to be there for Alfred... showing compassion every once in a while couldn't hurt, right? Right. He was only insinuating his lo-

_Wait. No! That could never happen!_What the hell was he thinking? As if. Even if he really did love Alfred, its not like he would accept him anyway. Arthur wiped the ignorant thoughts from his mind. He focused more now on how the plane was starting to leave the ground. Good, now Alfred was going to tell him, and he could get things back to normal. The American shifted his gaze from the ground to Arthur, who turned his head and made complete eye contact between the two.

Arthur started, "So, about that proble-"

"Russia bombed DC and declared war on me." Alfred interrupted coldly.

**(( OHHH cliff hanger XD next chapter will be up sometime today or tomorrow.))**


	2. Chapter 2

**((Oh my gosh I didn't realize that people would actually be reading this. I'm really happy that it got like 90 views _over night!_ Like horry sheet. Anyway. Time for chapter two :3.))**

Arthur's jaw dropped. Everything seemed to go quiet around him and Alfred.

_Russia..? America is in a war with Russia...alone? What the hell!_ The Brit thought to himself.

"Alfred!," he said in a panicked voice. "Why didn't you tell me?! Damn it Al, you're going to get yourself _killed!_" He was just shouting things that came to mind now, not realizing how Alfred was reacting. His eyes were watering, tears threatening to spill.

_Don't. Don't you dare cry!_

Too late. Alfred was wiping the tears from his eyes, starting to sob and hiccup. He was taking Arthur's words rather harshly. Not only that but now he had let his secret spill out. God, he hoped Ivan wouldn't find out. If he did, it was all over. His people, his country...all reduced to a nuclear bomb blast-site. He couldn't let that happen. Never. He'd put up such a fight to keep Ivan from taking what was his. Nobody really thought that Alfred had cared so deeply about his country. In fact, nobody ever thought he cared about anything, because that's how American's are. Stupid and careless, right?

"Please," he sobbed, "don't try to help me. I-if Ivan finds out that I told you, he'll end it all for me! He said th-that if anybody finds out, he'd make everything I ever had disappear..." He buried his head in the palms of his hands, crying quite loudly. What if people saw him like this? The representation of their country, broken down and crying. Oh, screw it. Everybody's had their times like this before, of course. So there was nothing abnormal about this. Hopefully, anyway. Al never really knew how emotionally unstable he actually was, or that he wasn't as strong as he liked to make believe he was. Well, Arthur had done this several times before, breaking down and full out sobbing and crying. Alfred still remembered the most recent one. Years ago, Alfred was at home, sitting on the couch. Arthur had called him up on the phone, hysteric. Alfred rushed to get to Arthur, once he did, he found the Brit convulsing on the floor. He had just broken down from all the pressure he was put under as a country, which is respectable. Being a country was not easy. Alfred had kneeled next to Arthur and pulled the nation into his arms, saying things like 'it's alright, Arthur,' and 'you're okay, I'm here.' It took hours, but Arthur finally calmed down. He had his head buried in Alfred's chest, gripping tightly onto his sides. From then on, Arthur had always looked to Alfred for comfort. The two never brought up that time though. Arthur found it very embarrassing that he was calmed by a stupid American. But now it was his turn to make Alfred feel better, to be there for him. Once he saw that the American was crying, he immediately felt like a horrible person. Without much thought he scooted closer to Alfred and wrapped his arms around him tightly.

"I'm sorry..." he said in a soft voice as Alfred cried onto his shoulder. He could feel the tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm just worried about you." Arthur was somewhat surprised when Alfred returned the hug. No, he couldn't let that bloody American in. No way! He had to stop this right now. He was about to pull back, but Alfred said something that made him stop.

"I'm so afraid," he talked in a raspy voice. "I don't know what to do. If I try to get help, he'll kill me. If I try to fight back, he'll kill me. What am I supposed to do?...I don't want to loose everything, Arthur. All of my people. They'd be massacred, all because of me. I'd go down in the history book as the country who was so pathetically weak that he couldn't even defend himself against one other country." Alfred started to cry louder. People were looking at him now, staring. He felt like he was at the lowest point in his life. And quite possibly the last point in his life. Well, not possibly, almost certainly. It hurt even more saying the words out loud rather than just thinking them. But what if he was able to get several countries on his side to help defend him for when Russia attacked? They'd have to be pretty strong and large countries to fend off Ivan though. Maybe it would work. He would just have to lay low until he had enough help. But if the plan failed it would be all over...well, it was the only thing he had, so he might as well.

The words that Alfred was saying felt like a stab in the heart. It was hard seeing the country he raised and took care of in this kind of state. Suddenly he felt no longer to shut the American out. In fact, he wanted to comfort him even more now. His gaze softened. "Alfred...listen. It's going to be alright. I'm going to help you. I will _not_ let any of those things happen to you, I promise." He found himself saying just about everything running through his mind. "I'm going to issue a declaration of war on Russia. I'm also going to get anybody else I can to help. Alright? You're going to be fine..." He said softly, hugging the American tighter.

Alfred's crying grew quieter. Not completely diminished, just quieter. "Really...? You'd really help me...?" He didn't think that Arthur would go that far to help him out. He was overwhelmed by a feeling of happiness now that he wouldn't be alone through this anymore, and that the Brit really didn't hate him. He lifted his head and looked at Arthur, sniffling.

"I said I would help you no matter what, did I not?" Arthur replied, his expression soft.

Alfred started to cry harder, out of happiness and relief now. He pressed his face into Arthur's shoulder, tightening his grip around Arthur's torso. "Thank you, Arthur..." he mumbled. That was all he could think of to say now. He was tired, his head hurt, and his mind wasn't functioning right. But at least he wasn't alone now.

"You're quite welcome." The Brit sighed. "But if something like this happens again, you won't keep me in the dark, right?" He asked. The American lifted his head and looked at Arthur, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Yeah. I'll tell you next time." He replied.

Arthur pushed a smile onto his face. "Alright." Alfred smiled idiotically, now the tears had subsided. The two hadn't pulled away from each other yet. They still had their arms tightly wrapped around each other, and didn't really realize it. To be honest, neither one of them wanted to move. This is how they sat when Arthur had broken down that one time, even hours after Arthur had stopped crying they stayed that way. There was nothing wrong with it, right? Right. The American shifted his gaze towards the window. He looked at the darkening clouds.

"How long is this flight?" He asked, still looking out the window.

"About fourteen hours. So it should be around one in the morning when we get there. You booked a hotel, right?"

"Sure did. I'll probably fall asleep here, though. I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Oh, well, that's fine then. You need to be rested up for the meeting anyway. I'll probably fall asleep as well."

"Okay. Hah, too bad you don't have a cup of tea to relax you huh?" Al joked, smiling.

"Ha ha. So very funny." Arthur said sarcastically, his lips curling into a grin. Alfred let out an airy chuckle. The two then fell silent for a moment, looking each other in the eyes. Alfred's a deep sapphire and Arthur's an emerald green.

_God, Alfred's eyes are beautiful.. _

Arthur thought to himself as he studied the American's eyes. He had always admired them, how things would reflect off them. His face suddenly turned a bright pink when he realized what he was thinking about, and how the two were still embracing each other. Alfred's cheeks were already flushed from both crying and being hugged by Arthur as well. He cleared his throat and unwrapped his arms from around Arthur, looking away and feeling awkward now. Arthur did the same, turning his head towards the window. He didn't move an inch away from Alfred though. He was still pressed against him, not really wanting to move anymore than he did. He pulled a book out from his bag and opened it up, beginning to read. While Alfred pulled his headphones over his ears. He took out his phone and started to listen to music. He always had an affinity towards bands like Hollywood Undead and Bring Me the Horizon, so that's what he listened to. Music was his escape. It made him feel so much better when he was down. His mind was lost in the sound, while Arthur's was embedded in the pages.

* * *

It was night now. Just about everybody was asleep, and the plane would be landing in a few hours. Arthur had laid his head on Alfred's shoulder and drifted off to sleep, book still open and on his lap. Alfred was leaning heavily on Arthur. His headphones still covered his ears and were playing _Shadow Moses_. All was quiet other than the music. Al suddenly jolted awake, a cold sweat on his forehead. Another nightmare. He remembered vividly every detail:

America had woken up somewhere pitch black. There was no sound, nothing could be seen but the inky blackness. He tried to call out, but found that his lungs filled up with water. Blinding lights suddenly flicked on. Alfred was in a glass box. To his horror, Ivan stood on the outside, holding a bloody and torn American flag. He had a sincere smile on his face. So sincere that it was eerie. In his other hand there was a bloody pipe. He pulled a person out of the darkness, and at first Alfred couldn't see who it was. He eyes widened as soon as he saw, though.

_Oh my god. No. Please, no!_

It was Arthur Kirkland, beaten up and bloody. He was crying, various blood stains on his uniform. Ivan smiled wider and whispered something into Arthur's ear before stepping back. He raised his pipe and bashed Arthur right in the head. Arthur crumbled to his knees. Alfred was trying to scream as loud as he could, his eyes watering.

Ivan then mouthed something to Alfred.

_"Da zdravstvuyet Al'fred Dzhons." _

Long live Alfred Jones.

The American saw that he was drowning now, water replacing air. He choked briefly before blacking out. That was when he woke up on the plane.

Alfred sighed and looked at the sleeping Arthur. It was only a dream. Arthur was right next to him, where he should be. Had he fallen asleep on him...? He smiled softly and looked quickly at all of the passengers, seeing that nobody was awake. He then ducked his head and kissed Arthur on the forehead, whispering something softly.

"I love you, Arthur."

**((HAHAHAHAH SO CUTE! Anyway, there ya go! Chapter two! So, I used some ideas from Divergent in there with the whole nightmare thing. I'm really happy with how well this is coming along, and I'm happy people are liking it. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, you'll have to give me a few days. Or maybe not, I don't know. MORE TO COME!))**


	3. Chapter 3

**((I have so much motivation to be writing this right now *-* over 200 people have seen this! Like omg! Now, updates are gonna be really slow from here because my mother _hates_ anime and hates when I stay on my computer all day. She also strongly disapproves of Hetalia for some reason and is trying to tell me nobody cares about it. Like =-= so yeah, sorry that I take forever to write things now.))**

The plane had landed now. The airport was rather quiet, few flights were active at one in the morning. The lights of Tokyo drowned out the stars. To Alfred, it felt a lot like New York City. But to Arthur, it seemed unnaturally bright. The two were walking out of the air port. Alfred was carrying his duffel bag which was half drained of the hamburgers he packed. He had gotten cold and now had a scarf that had the American flag printed across it wrapped around his neck. His face was somewhat red from what he did on the plane. He had no regrets, however. Arthur was still blissfully unaware, humming as he walked. He was gripping tightly onto his suitcase that held all his clothes.

"Gosh, I'm sorry we have to walk so far. I was only expecting to have me walking." Alfred said, looking at the Brit.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I don't mind walking." Arthur replied, smiling at Alfred.

"Good..." he paused, looking up at one of the animated screens on a building. "Kinda reminds me of home, ya know?" he turned to Arthur. "I mean, my home. New York."

Arthur raised his thick eyebrows. "I've never seen New York City at night, though."

Alfred's gaze softened. "Well, I need to take you there some time and show you. It's actually really pretty."

"How about when the meeting is over? I mean, you wouldn't mind me staying with you for a week or two, right?"

He tilted his head to the side. Arthur, always being around, for two weeks? His cheeks grew a bright pink. "I wouldn't mind. That'd be really cool! And then maybe I can come to Iggyland some time."

Arthur laughed. "We'll see about that."

Alfred chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Everybody else must be here too. I hope no other countries are in our hotel. That'd be chaos."

The Brit nodded in agreement. "Yes, we have enough bloody problems as it is. If any other countries are there just try not to start any trouble, okay?"

"Cuz I'm totally gonna go in there and just provoke everybody that I possibly can." Al said sarcastically, his eyes flicking around the various buildings until they landed on a tall one. "Ah, there's the hotel!" He grinned at Arthur, "Wanna race there?"

Arthur tilted his head to the side. "Race? If you want to race me, be prepared to loose...but alright. I'll race you."

"Alright! On three. One, tw-" But Arthur had already started sprinting towards the hotel. "HEY THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Alfred shouted as he took off, pumping his legs as hard as he could, the Brit laughing ahead of him.

"Told you I'd beat you, git!" He looked back at Alfred, laughing evilly. Al gritted his teeth and sprinted faster, getting ahead of England.

"Hahah! Suck it!" Alfred called back, sticking out his tongue. Soon he reached the hotel, leaning on one of the walls, panting. Arthur jogged up next to him, coughing a bit.

"Wow, you're quite the quickster, Alfred," he panted breathlessly.

The American flashed a grin, "Of course! Heroes have to be really fast, you know." He replied, letting out a chuckle.

Arthur smiled, "Shall we go inside, then?" He was euphoric now, seeing that the American was back to his normal self. He feared that Alfred might've stayed in that state of depression for too long, and that would've killed him before Ivan would. But he still had to think of who would help Alfred out, too. Even with him and Al's combined forces, they would never be able to take Russia out, especially if Russia gained an ally. Well, either way, he was glad to help America out. If he were to die, Arthur would never be able to forgive himself.

"Mhmm." Alfred said, holding open the door for Arthur. The Brit nodded, giving a quiet 'thanks' and stepped inside. The hotel was rather pleasant. It's lobby was painted with bright colors, it was filled with comfortable looking furniture. Alfred stepped inside after Arthur, looking around for a bit before going up to the front desk. He looked at the door man, who was clearly asleep. Al frowned and rung the bell repeatedly.

"Oi, wake up!" The man jolted awake, saying something that America couldn't understand. "Dude, I'm American. Can't process what you're saying." He said, leaning forward slightly.

"Oh! Mr. America," the Japanese man shifted languages, speaking now in English. He looked over at Arthur. "I see you have Mr. Britain here too." He gave a nervous smile and placed a key card on the desk. "Here is your key, room number two hundred."

The American nodded. "Thanks, man." He then turned to Arthur. "Room two hundred. Remember that, 'cause I won't."

Arthur chuckled and walked over to the elevator. He pressed the glowing button with an arrow facing down, and the doors opened. He walked inside and looked at America.

"C'mon, wanker, before the doors close!" He called. Alfred hurried over and hopped into the elevator. Soon the two were lifted to the second floor. Alfred frowned. Did they really have to use the elevator for that? Oh well, less walking, right? Right. That's the American way, isn't it? As the two strode out into the hall, Al couldn't stop thinking about what he did on the plane. What would Arthur do if he found out? He'd probably be utterly disgusted and abandon the American. Arthur would never love him back. But, he had loved that British man for as long as he could remember. Knowing that he would never have Arthur really crushed him. Knowing that Arthur only looked at him as a friend.

Well, Alfred was wrong. Arthur had fallen in love with him ever since he started to raise him. Seeing him always made Arthur happier. He tried to act like he really didn't care for the American, he didn't want to give it away. He had the same thoughts as Alfred, thinking that he would never love him back. He wanted so badly to try something, to show that he cared so deeply, but his lingering fear of loosing America completely held him back. Would Alfred really leave him though? The man he had known and raised since the very beginning. He wouldn't just...leave, would he? Arthur was ripped away from his thoughts when Alfred opened the door to their room.

"Uh, it only has one bed, cuz I thought it'd only be me. I'll go ahead and sleep on the floor." He called, tossing his duffel bag on the ground.

Arthur walked inside as well and shut the door behind him, not bothering to flick on the lights. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, Alfred. We can both fit on the bed, yeah?" Al's face turned a dark red. The thought of sleeping with his crush made his mind go foggy.

"I, um, okay." He stuttered, blinking a few times.

_Oh dear, Arthur, what did you just_ _do?_

Alfred took off his jacket, tossing it over his bag. He then removed his suit, leaving himself with a black tank-top and a pair of red, white, and blue boxers. Arthur's eyes widened, his face turning a dark cherry red. Man, did Al look good in that tank top. He never realized how muscular the other nation was. He always thought he was rather chubby, but no, he was quite built. Arthur pulled his eyes away and walked into the bathroom, not wanting to change in front of Alfred. He stripped his clothing off and put on some white and blue plaid pajamas. When he came back out, he dropped his suit case on the floor and crawled into the bed. Alfred was fumbling through his bag for one more hamburger. He quickly placed the first one he found in his mouth, and reached a hand back to give his spine an itch. In the process of doing so, the back of his shirt was lifted, revealing a large black tattoo of an eagle across his back. Arthur made a confused face.

"Alfred! Since when have you had that tattoo?!" He asked, shocked that his Alfred- no, not his**. **That Alfred had a tattoo that large.

"Hm? I got that a few years back," he mumbled, mouth full of the hamburger.

"Absurd!" Arthur cried, taken back a bit.

"What, its just a tattoo! It symbolizes freedom and liberty, there's nothing wrong with that." Alfred stuffed the rest of the burger in his mouth and climbed under the bedding next to Arthur.

"Liberty and freedom huh? _Tch..._" The Brit grumbled, rolling over to face away from the American.

"Aw, c'mon Artie, don't be mad over a stupid tattoo..." Alfred whined.

_Artie...?_

_Did he just call me...Artie?_

"Well, you git, I certainly didn't raise you to go and get tattoos," was all he could think of to say.

"I've got freedom to make my own choices!" Alfred sat up, starting to get irritated.

Arthur growled and sat up as well, glaring at the American. "So? That doesn't mean getting a tattoo is appropriate in any way!"

"Well I could care less what you think! Don't you think there was a reason behind the revolution?!" Alfred immediately covered his mouth.

_Oh no._

"Arthur, I didn't-"

"You! Why the hell would you say that to me?! I just offered to give up my bloody life to make sure you were okay!" Arthur shrieked. Anybody mentioning anything about the American Revolution evoked such anger and sadness for him. "Do you even realize how much I _care_ for you?! Do you know how that bloody felt?! Your preposterous revolution ruined me! I wanted to _die_, Alfred! And just when I start to get close to you again, this happens!" He jumped out of the bed, stomping over to his suitcase. "I should've bloody known you don't care for me." He added coldly, walking to the door and opening it.

Alfred was stunned. All sorts of emotions were flooding over him now. Tears started to fall from his eyes.

_You messed up._

He couldn't let Arthur leave. He had to do something, now, before Arthur walked out that door. So, he jumped out of the bed, sprinted over to Arthur, and pulled him away from the door. Without any thought whatsoever, he leaned down and pressed his lips against the Brit's, enveloping him into a kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

**((AHAHAHAHA I just had to add that last part. It was so cute and ahh it needed to be there, mkay? Kay. Oh and I'm sorry this update took forever! I don't like to write during the school week much, so the weekends is probably where updates will be most frequent.))**

Arthur's eyes widened. Was this really happening...? No, it couldn't be. It had to be a dream. A surreal dream, and he would have to wake up now. But, no, he found that this wasn't a dream, and it was indeed real. The person he had loved for _years _had just pulled him into a kiss. All his anger faded away. He forgot everything that had just happened and dropped his suitcase. He wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, falling into the kiss. His face turned a dark shade of red.

Alfred couldn't believe what he had just did. He was shocked that Arthur hadn't pulled away, and was even more utterly stunned when the Brit wrapped his arms around his neck and returned the kiss. So, maybe Arthur really did love him back...? If not he would've pulled away by now, surely. The two just stood there in the door frame for a long time. Both of them wanted this moment to be drawn out as much as possible. After a long moment, Alfred gently pulled back, breaking the kiss.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," he whispered, ever-so-gently reaching a hand up and placing it on Arthur's cheek, "I didn't mean it, I swear..." He added, blinking some tears away.

Arthur looked straight into Alfred's eyes, wiping some tears off the American's face. "It's alright...I...I shouldn't have said anything about your tattoo..." he said softly.

Alfred sniffled and pulled the British man closer. "I...I think I love you...Arthur.." He whispered so quietly as if he didn't want the other male to hear.

Arthur felt a sudden surge of happiness. He smiled, tears of joy starting to fall from his eyes. Finally. He could be with that damned American, able to call Alfred his. He leaned up and pressed his lips to Alfred's.

_Idiot, I've wanted you to say that for so long._

_It's been years._

He quickly pulled back and brushed Alfred's cheek, "I think I love you as well, git..."

Alfred sobbed, tears now streaming from his eyes. He was filled with relief and happiness and joy and warmth...Arthur was his now, and only his. The years of fantasizing were over now. He had the real deal right in front of him, and he wouldn't let anything take that away. He reached forward and closed the door, still holding the Brit in his arms. He smiled down at Arthur, looking into those beautiful emerald eyes. Arthur smiled and pulled away from Alfred, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the door.

"Can I talk to you about a few things, Alfred...?" Arthur asked. He wanted to spill all the secrets he had been keeping for years. He couldn't wait any longer.

Alfred nodded, "Sure." He looked around and hopped onto the bed, sitting cross legged on the sheets. Arthur followed and sat across from him with his legs tucked neatly under himself.

"Listen...I...I need to clarify some things. I've wanted to tell you quite a few secrets for a very long time now. You wouldn't mind me blabbing on about things, would you?"

"Oh, that's alright. I'm about the same right now anyway." Alfred smiled and grasped Arthur's hand reassuringly.

Arthur intertwined his fingers with Alfred's and inhaled sharply. Right here, in this moment, he would pour his heart out. Everything on his mind Alfred would now know. There was no turning back at this point. The thought of backing out never even crossed either of the two countries' thoughts.

"Well, to s..to start, I..." He sniffled, "I have loved you this entire time. I don't know when it...when it started. I just..." he looked down. "Ever since I met you, you became a huge chunk of my heart. I don't know why or how but it just happened, you know?" he stuttered, having trouble getting the words out. "I wanted to tell you for _so_ long, but I was afraid you'd reject me and abandon me...but then...then you just...kissed me and.." he started to cry again, tears falling onto the bed sheets. "It made me feel like I'm actually significant to someone...like...like I'm wanted. As if I'm really a part of somebody's life. _Your _life. You, out of billions of people in this world..." he let out a choked sob and tightened his grip on the American's hand. "It couldn't have been a more perfect person..." he finished.

Alfred was surprised at everything that was coming out of Arthur's mouth. What really shocked him was that those thoughts were the same as his own. He, too, lived in fear that Arthur would walk out and leave him as well. When Arthur started crying, Alfred pulled him closer and into his lap, running a hand through Arthur's golden hair. He was more euphoric than any man alive that moment, and probably the most shocked man, too.

"Yeah...I feel the same, too. I thought if I ever said anything, you would walk out of my life and never come back. I didn't, no, _don't_ want that to happen," Alfred smiled softly, his words gentle.

"You...do you really mean that...?" Arthur asked as he looked up at Al.

"Of course...I mean _every word._" The American whispered wiping some tears off the other male's face with his thumbs. Arthur smiled and nestled his face into the crook of Al's neck. He was quite happy to hear Alfred's thoughts. Every word made him feel better, more secure, even though he wasn't the one who needed the most help and support now.

"Thank you, git..." he mumbled.

"You're welcome..." Alfred started, "I basically feel...the same. Although I know I've loved you from the start, from the very beginning. Back then it wasn't the same feeling as now but...it just got stronger." He let out an airy chuckle, reminiscing all those great times he and Arthur had in the past before the revolution. He almost felt a tinge of regret for breaking away from Britain, causing him this much pain, but he had his reasons. All those ridiculous taxes, not even letting him represent himself in the British parliament. It just became too much to handle all at once.

"I do have one question, though, Alfred," Arthur stated, lifting his head and looking up at the American.

"Okay."

"Why...why did you leave me like you did...? Why did you choose to walk away from me?"

Alfred's heart sank. Those words felt like knives in his chest, hitching his breath, unable to speak or even breathe.

"I..." He began quietly. "I just...when I was little I didn't understand that you were doing all these things to me. It wasn't until I was old enough to think for myself when I realized that your taxes were ridiculous...You didn't even represent me in you parliament. You passed all these stupid acts, like when you were able to search every one of my people's homes without having a warrant, or when you made us take care of _your _soldiers. I just wanted to have autonomy, you know?" Arthur's expression was so sad. How could he have been so blind? He felt horrible now for doing those things and letting a person as magnificent as Alfred drift out of his grasp. But hey, he was here now.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry Alfred. I was so blind. I didn't realize how much you disliked what I was doing..." He said softly, "You...you just won't leave me behind again...right?"

Alfred tilted his head to the side slightly. Did Arthur really think he would just walk out again? Well, he wasn't going to.

"Never again. I _promise_." He whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on Arthur's lips. "You won't have to worry about it. I'll always be there for you, Arthur. I swear on my life."

Arthur's lips wavered into a smile. "Me too. I'll help you get through this war as well, okay?"

"Sounds good to me..." Alfred agreed.

* * *

The two had ended up staying awake until four in the morning, talking. There were no more secrets, nothing to hide from each other. Each country felt content and satisfied with each other. They spoke exactly what was on their mind until there was nothing more to say. Alfred was sprawled out on his back, a soft snoring noise following each rise and fall of his chest. Arthur was pressed up against him, his head resting on the American's shoulder. They were both sound asleep and worn out from all that talking. Their hands were tightly pursed together, fingers intertwining and locking. This was suddenly interrupted as the alarm went off on Alfred's phone, jolting him awake. He reached over and forcefully turned the alarm off with a yawn. It was ten o' clock. That would give them two hours to get ready and be at the meeting.

"Geez," he mumbled. "How late were we up?" He scratched his head and looked over as Arthur shifted slightly and opened his deep green eyes, blinking a bit at the sunlight peeking through the windows.

"Mornin' sunshine," Alfred joked with a smile. At first when he woke up the thought this was all a dream and nothing really happened last night, but he was reassured when Arthur smiled back and leaned up to kiss his cheek before rolling out of bed. Arthur stretched his arms over his head, yawning as he did so. He then looked at Alfred who was still embedded in the blankets.

"I'm going to shower," he said bluntly.

"But I need to shower too!" Alfred whined.

"I won't take long you git," Arthur called as he walked into the hotel's bathroom. Alfred groaned and pulled the covers over his head, rolling onto his side. A few minutes of extra sleep wouldn't hurt. He was asleep within minutes again, snoring just as softly as before. Arthur closed the door to the bathroom and stripped off his clothes. He then started the shower water and stepped into it. He let the hot water wash over his body, as if it were cleansing him of all the bad memories. Giving him a new start. He usually always used the shower as time to think, alone. He started to go through everything he usually did, washing his hair, his body, and in a way, his mind.

* * *

Alfred opened the doors to the huge building in which the meeting would be held. Arthur followed closely behind. The two made their way to a large room with a table surrounded by many, many seats. Most of the countries were already there. Romano sat next to Italy, yelling at his little brother for sitting by Germany, who looked thoroughly pissed off. France was holding up a mirror to his face, going on about how beautiful he thought he was. Alfred stopped walking when his eyes fell upon Russia. Ivan turned his head and looked at the American, a smile on his face. The smile quickly turned into a frown once he saw that America had Britain with him. He narrowed his eyes and looked the other way. Arthur placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder.

"Don't be afraid of him," he whispered. "Just take your seat and steer clear of him."

Alfred nodded nervously and strode forward, sitting down and crossing his legs. Arthur sat next to him and turned as Japan said hello. The two started a friendly chat, asking about each other's economics and what not. America sighed and sank down in his seat. He flinched as Spain came up to him.

"Hello, amigo," Spain said in a cheery voice. "How come you're not up and barking stupid things like you usually do? Sorry if I come off as a bit rude, but you're just always so happy."

Spain. Of course! Spain could help him in the war!

"Spain. Listen," Alfred said quietly. "Russia and I are at war. I need all the allies I can get or else he'll destroy me, but he can't know I told anyone until I'm sure I can fight him off. Do you think that...you might be able to help me out?" Spain raised an eyebrow. Poor Alfred, in a war with Russia alone?

"Sure...I'll form an alliance with you."

Alfred sighed in relief. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." Spain nodded and smiled, then walked off to talk to Italy and Romano. Soon all the countries arrived, and the meeting was in session. Germany's booming voice filled the room.

"Listen up everybody! Today's meeting is simply to discuss economics among us all, just like the usual. Address any issues, make announcements as needed." And so the meeting began, and as usual, there was complete and udder chaos. Everybody started to fight about who was best and what not. Germany sighed and sat back down, not even trying to stop everyone. There was no use. America gritted his teeth as Russia approached him.

"Hello, Alfred, things are going well in America, da?"

"Don't talk to me like nothing happened between us," Alfred growled back, narrowing his eyes. Ivan's smile turned into a straight line.

"For heaven's sake, you don't know how to keep your mouth shut, do you?"

"Of course I do, I haven't told anybody, asshole. Now back off-" America was interrupted as Ivan fiercely punched him in the jaw. There was a sickening crunch, followed by the steady flow of blood from his mouth.

"Don't talk to me like that." Ivan hissed. No other countries had noticed what was going on. They were too busy bickering with each other. Alfred put a hand on his jaw, hissing in pain. He looked at Russia coldly and gave him an upper-cut, right under the chin. Ivan fell silent.

"You... just hit me." He whispered, eyes narrowing. He lunged forward and slammed Alfred down onto his chair with a great amount of force, causing it to snap. The thud Alfred made when he hit the floor followed by the chair was enough for everybody to turn their heads to the scene. Ivan now had his hands around Alfred's neck tightly, digging his nails into the American's soft skin. Alfred let out a squeak and squirmed a bit underneath Ivan, kicking and throwing his arms about. He was being strangled. The air was leaving his lungs, and his vision was starting to fade in and out. Arthur's eyes widened as he watched.

"Get off him!" He shouted, stepping forward. The pressure on Alfred's neck softened, and he could breathe again.

"Ohohohoho, looks like the green dildo is getting angry." Ivan grinned getting off of Alfred. He stood and started to moved towards Arthur, raised a fist, and was about to swing when Alfred jumped up and tackled Ivan right to the ground.

"You touch him and I'll rip your throat out," America hissed ruthlessly. Russia's purple eyes widened, as did Arthur's. Neither of them had ever seen the American in such a state, and to be honest, it was quite scary. Ivan shook it off and bounced back up. He then pulled a small dagger out of his coat and with one swift movement sunk it deep into Alfred's shoulder, causing a loud _snap_ and a gush of blood. Alfred shrieked in pain, stumbling backwards as he tried to rip the dagger out of his shoulder. Ivan had gone too far. Germany, Spain, and Switzerland all had to restrain him. They pulled him away from Alfred as gasped sounded from the crowd. Arthur felt as if he was going to cry. He rushed forward and in front of Alfred.

"Alfred!" He cried, leaning forward. Kiku quickly came over and looked at Arthur.

"Go call an ambulance." Kiku said quietly. "I'll handle Alfred." And so, with a nod, Arthur sped off to find the nearest phone.


	5. Chapter 5

**((Mkay just a warning, there will be a big time skip in this chapter.))**

Alfred's eyes snapped open suddenly. He looked around his environment and found that he was in a white room. When his vision came into focus, he saw more clearly that he was in a hospital room. The entire left side of his face ached horribly, his jaw more specifically. His lower back hurt slightly as well. He tilted his head to the side and winced as the little movement sent a surge of pain through his jaw. He looked down and saw his shoulder was wrapped heavily in bandages. The American was quite confused about what had happened and why he had all these injuries. He then saw that Arthur was in a chair that had been pulled up to Alfred's bed, asleep. He suddenly felt more relieved, feeling better knowing that his Arthur was present. He then shifted his gaze and saw that his hand was tightly grasped by Arthur's, but was disappointed because he really couldn't feel it.

"A...Arthur," he squeaked. The word made his jaw ache even more. Arthur jolted awake, his eyes falling onto Alfred.

"Oh dear god, you're awake. I'm so glad." Arthur said in a worried tone. He was sick with concern for the American. When he came back after calling an ambulance for the meeting, Alfred had collapsed on the floor, either of blood loss or the fact that he had been hit with such a great amount of force on his head. Alfred didn't remember any of this, however. He felt like he was in some sort of trance.

"Why...why...am I here...? What..." Alfred trailed off, the pain to sharp to keep talking. Why was this happening to him? Why was he here?

"You and Ivan got into a fight at the meeting," Arthur said softly. "He shattered your jaw and ripped apart the tendons in your shoulder..." He sighed. "But you protected me, though." He gave a wry smile. He was quite pleased that Alfred protected him when Ivan was about to swing at him.

Alfred made a face. How did he manage to get himself into a fight with Russia? What looked like a grin crept up onto his face.

"Did...did I...win?" he stuttered, gripping Arthur's hand tightly, who let out a chuckle.

"No, Alfred, you passed out on the floor. You have a concussion and you've been out for two days." Alfred's eyes widened. Two days?! He had never been out for that long before. He wondered how long he would have to stay in the hospital for. He was still in Japan, after all.

"When will...I go home...?" He asked.

"Now that you're awake you should be discharged soon, but it really depends on when your concussion gets better." Arthur said with a smile. He really hated to see Alfred in so much pain. Just looking at that poor American's face showed how horrible he felt. His jaw was severely unaligned, and had been worse before the doctors wired his teeth. It was rather swollen as well. The doctors had applied quite a few anesthetics to help numb the aching, despite this Alfred could still feel it very strongly. He couldn't feel his shoulder though, or his entire right arm rather. His nerves were somewhat shot and the anesthetics had done their job in numbing the pain, other wise the stab wound would've been overwhelmingly painful.

"What happened to...Ivan?" Alfred asked coldly.

"Pressed charges against him for attacking you. He's in Japanese prison." Arthur sighed. "He won't be hurting you again. You now have Spain, Japan, and Switzerland as allies in the war." He gave a smile and gingerly brushed Alfred's cheek (the one that wasn't shattered.) Alfred leaned into Arthur's touch with a nod of approval.

"Good..." he said in almost a whisper. His breathing suddenly sped up and his head lolled to the side, his vision going dark. That damned concussion. It would cause him to randomly black out various times in the future, and there was nothing he could do but hope it would get better. Arthur sighed and leaned down to kiss Alfred's forehead, then stood up and walked out of the room to consult with the doctor.

* * *

It had been about a month since that day, the day when Russia put Alfred into a coma. He had only been out of the hospital for a week and a half now, getting back into the routine of his every day life again. About four days after getting admitted into the hospital he was transported back to an American hospital. His concussion still lingered and it _caused_ him to forget things frequently. He had various surgeries on his jaw to try and align it better, but it was still slightly crooked and made a popping noise if he moved it the right way. Arthur stayed in America for longer than he intended, but it didn't matter. He could live there for all he cared. All he cared about was Alfred and how he was recuperating, both from the concussion and the war. He had slowly started to gain the lead against Russia, who was now bailed out of jail, still pleaded guilty though. He had gained Germany as an ally which was a major problem for America and his allies but they were managing.

Alfred sat on his couch with his head propped up on a pillow. He had his laptop in his lap and was watching some gamers playing horror games on youtube. His jet black headphones were pressed tightly to his ears, embedded into his hair and turned to maximum volume. His cat was asleep on his chest, quite comfortable. The both of them were waiting for Arthur to return. He had gone out to get McDonald's for Alfred and to buy some groceries for Alfred's house. Within a few minutes the front door opened and Alfred looked up from his screen as Arthur stepped inside. He carried two bags in each hand, three of which were bags from the store, and the last was the unmistakable bag that had Alfred's favorite food inside. Al took off his headphones and put them around his neck, a smile growing on his face.

"Hiya Iggy. Whatcha got there?" he asked as he sat up.

Arthur shook the snow off his coat and set the bags down. "I got you some McDonalds and a few groceries," he said as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. Alfred's face lit up and he lifted Americat off his chest, standing up carefully and walking over to Arthur.

"Ya didn't have to go out of your way to get me food," he said happily. "But thanks."

"I wanted to do something nice. And you're welcome." Arthur said warmly, lifting the bag off food and handing it to the eager American. Alfred took the bag and sat back down on the couch. Arthur took off his boots and sat beside him, leaning to the side to see what was on the laptop's screen. He raised one of those thick eyebrows.

"Aren't you usually afraid of these types of things?" He asked. Alfred already had a hamburger in hand and was munching on a fry.

"Psh, a hero, afraid of stupid videos? No way," he muttered through a mouth full of greasy foods. Arthur chuckled a shook his head, leaning back.

"If you're not afraid, I dare you to download one of those games and play it. Here, in the dark. No lights, and you can't quit." He paused. "And if you do, you'll have to..." he grinned, "you'll have to sleep downstairs, alone, for one week." Alfred laughed nervously. He knew he wouldn't be able to do it. He was an extreme scaredy cat. But he couldn't show any weakness. A hero never turned down a challenge!

"Alright, you're on. But if I don't quit, you'll have to buy me McDonald's for lunch every day for a week."

"Hahah, better get your flashlight~" Arthur hummed as he leaned back.

"More like you better start saving your money." Alfred grunted as he opened the link to download one of the games. He ended up choosing the classic Slender game. The two waited until it was pitch dark and the only light on in the house was Alfred's open lap top. Him and Arthur both sat on the couch, each eager to see who would win the bet. Alfred had a blanket wrapped around himself, Arthur right next to him, kind of scared himself. He was petrified of the supernatural, even though he had some friends on...the other side, so to speak. Alfred grinned and looked at Arthur.

"Can I start?" He asked, mouse hovering over the _start _button.

"Go ahead." Alfred clicked start and his character was spawned into the dark forest in which was said to be the dwelling place of the hellish creature. He flicked the player's flashlight on and began to move around, aware of his objective to collect notes. Within a few minutes he collected two, the eerie ambience blaring in his headphones. From Arthur's perspective it didn't seem as terrifying, but it still was incredibly creepy. He was now clinging to the American, emerald eyes scanning the screen for any sign of old slendy. Suddenly the screen flashed to static and the image of the faceless creature appeared on the screen. Alfred jumped and shrieked, making the character sprint forward at top speed. Arthur flinched and clung to Alfred tighter causing him to wince.

"Holy balls." Alfred breathed, utterly terrified. God, the two were such babies. Slender wasn't even the bottom of the barrel when it came to horror games, of course. He pushed on, collecting six of the total notes. He moved his character into the brick building, unaware that this was a maze. He found a note and grinned. He then turned the character and yelped as Slender man appeared. He took of his headphones and tossed them on the floor as his character died. He couldn't handle it. No way. He closed his laptop and shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut. Arthur blinked a few times, confused.

"You died?" He asked.

"...oof, yeah.." Alfred replied with a huff. "Guess you win...I'll sleep down here tonight then." He frowned, disappointed that he had lost the bet. He would most certainly have night terrors when he tried to sleep. He had trouble sleeping on a normal basis, this would be horrible.

"Heheh...told you." Arthur said softly. He knew that stupid American would be scared silly and quit. But to be honest, he would probably be scared to sleep alone that night as well. He had to be brave though, show no weakness or fear. Soon, Alfred was on the couch with a blanket, a pillow, and his cat tucked in his arms. Arthur leaned down to kiss the American's slightly disfigured jaw line before pulling away.

"Good night. Try not to get too scared okay?" He whispered with a warm smile. He felt slightly bad as he looked at the amount of fear in Alfred's sapphire eyes.

"I...okay." Al looked around the dark room. "Night...love you Artie..." He finished, rolling onto his side. Arthur blushed a bit, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

"I love you as well, Alfred. Sleep tight." And with that, he headed up the stairs, feeling horrible about making Alfred sleep alone in the dark. Oh well...he was pretty sure Al could handle it. Only for a week it would be, and hey, maybe it would help him with his fear of the dark. Arthur walked into Alfred's bedroom (which they now shared.) and stripped off his clothes, putting on a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a matching button-up shirt. He then plopped down onto the bed and pulled the covers over his body. January was quite bitter in New York City, as it was for any northern state, really. It was snowing heavily outside. The weather channel stated that their area would receive between twelve to fifteen inches of snow. Arthur had always hated the cold. He began to wish he had his warm American to hold him and keep him from getting cold. Meanwhile, Alfred was scared out of his mind downstairs. He kept hearing thing and seeing apparitions from the corner of his eye. He covered his head with a pillow and closed his eyes tightly, telling himself it was all in his head and wasn't real. He started to calm down and removed the pillow, only to be greeted by a creature from his worst nightmares that his mind had generated in the dark. It had an unnaturally long neck, matted brown hair, and huge blood-red eyes that bored into Alfred's. It hovered over him with a razor sharp smile, head tilted to the side. Alfred screamed loudly and slipped out from underneath the thing, holding his cat tightly. He then darted up the stairs as fast as he could.

"ARTHUR! ARTHUR ARTHUR ARTHUR!" He shrieked, hopping into bed with the confused Brit. He clung to Arthur as the imaginary creature entered the room, breathing heavily. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Alfred? What's wrong..?" He asked tiredly.

"Th..there's a thing...following me..." He cried, burying his head into Arthur's chest. Arthur looked around the room and made a face.

"But there's nothing here..." he responded. Al lifted his head and looked around. The creature from his mind had disappeared, thankfully.

"B...but it was just there.." Alfred pointed to the spot where it had been. Arthur then understood.

"It was just your imagination, love...it wasn't really there, I promise you." He said softly, stroking Alfred's golden hair comfortingly.

"Huh?" The American paused to consider. "Well...I suppose you may be right..." He agreed, holding his confused little Americat.

"Mhmm.." Arthur sighed. "I suppose you don't want to go back down there, do you?" Alfred shook his head.

"Figured...I'm sorry. This is my fault, for making you play that game. You don't have to sleep down there anymore."

"Okay, sounds good." Alfred said, scooting closer and loosening his grip on his poor cat. He still partly thought that the thing was really there, the British man just couldn't see it. Or hear it. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred and sighed again. He felt horridly bad now. Somehow he knew this was going to happen; Alfred getting scared and running up the stairs to sleep with him. Typical American. Soon they both were asleep, although it took Alfred quite a while to fall back asleep again. The room was filled with soft snoring as the two slept.


	6. Chapter 6

**((WARNING****** There will be mild smut in this chapter ^-^' Don't like don't read. Mkay? Mkay. Also. Next weekend there probably won't be an update because I have a wedding to go to. And the weekend after that there definitely won't be an update because I have another wedding to be at and its out of town. So I will try to squeeze in updates during the week for you guys. I'm sorry about that. Anyway. Here's the chapter.))**

Alfred hadn't been able to sleep downstairs alone for the rest of the week, and quite a while afterwards. The poor American was far too afraid to be even remotely far from Arthur, who still didn't quite know what happened. All he remembered was Alfred running into the room and hopping into bed next to him, rambling on about something he saw downstairs. The cat he was nearly suffocating in his arms looked even more terrified, probably because of the loud noise and being swept up as quickly as he was. Still though, Arthur had to be patient and compassionate towards Alfred. Americans weren't easy to deal with, in his opinion.

Alfred sat at the table in his kitchen. He had a steaming mug of creamy-brown coffee in his hands, holding it close to his lips. His eyes drifted off to the window where a light snow was falling outside. The thought made him shiver. He hated the cold. Every winter he longed for the summer to come. For one, in summer was his birthday. For two, there were so many other things he could do. Go swimming, play baseball, basketball, and _football, _go camping, see fireworks, and just be outside in the warm sun. Summer was awesome in America, as he phrased it. Even his people seemed happier. The only good thing about winter was hockey. He didn't mind playing a game or two with his Canadian brother once in a little while. In fact, that was what he had planned to do today. Arthur didn't know of course. In fact, the Brit was still sound asleep upstairs. It was early yet anyway. He decided to let Arthur sleep in. Americat was sitting in Alfred's lap with his tail flicking from side to side. Al took a sip of his coffee and sighed, then took out his iPhone and dialed Matthew's number. The Canadian answered after a brief moment of ringing.

"Hello?" The timid voice asked.

"Hey, Matt," Alfred leaned back in his chair, "how ya been?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow. It was rare when his brother acknowledged him. "Oh, hello Alfred. I've been alright, what about yourself?"

"I'm doing pretty good. Uh, I was wondering, do you think we could get together for a bit of hockey today?"

"Hockey eh? That sounds great." Matthew looked outside his window. "Wanna play outside on the ice, or in a rink?"

"Outside! I have the perfect place, too. Just get your ass over to my house as soon as possible, mkay?" Alfred asked with a smile.

"Of course. See you in a couple hours, eh." And then Matthew hung up. Alfred gently lifted the cream-colored cat off his lap and set him on the floor before standing and stretching. He started up the stairs, looking down, when he suddenly ran into a tire Arthur. He yelped and lost his balance, tipping backwards and tumbling head-over-heels down the stairs and landing quite hard on the floor below. Arthur swayed a bit but stayed on his feet, holding onto the railing. He looked down at the American, who was on his back on the downstairs below.

"Alfred?" He called and made his way down the stairs. "Are you quite alright...? I'm terribly sorry,"

Alfred groaned and gave a nod. "I'm fine." He blinked a few times and stood up, but nearly fell over again from the dizziness. That concussion of his made everything worse. He winced and pressed a hand to his crooked jaw. It began to ache now.

"Oh dear...did I hurt your jaw?" Arthur asked softly. He stepped closer to the American. He felt horribly bad now. He should've been paying attention.

Alfred sighed. "Yeah, but it wasn't your fault. I wasn't paying attention."

"Want me to get you some ice or a Tylenol or something?" Arthur offered. The American shook his head, not wanting to make Arthur feel bad.

"Nah, I'll get one later...I have to go shower. Mattie's comin' over soon, and we're gonna play hockey for a bit. So I'd better get ready." He paused. He then leaned forward and placed a kiss on Arthur's cheek. "Well good mornin', anyway. Hope ya slept good."

Arthur's cheeks grew red, and he smiled. "Yeah, I slept fine...I'll let you get ready, then." He then stepped aside and let the American walk up the stairs.

* * *

A couple hours later, there was a soft knock at the American's door. Alfred was sitting on the couch with a duffel bag full of his hockey gear.

"Come in, bro!" He called. Matthew opened the door and stepped through it, a smile on his face.

"Hello, Alfred." He then looked at Arthur. "Oh, I didn't know Arthur was here too." He placed his bag on the floor. Nobody really knew that Arthur and Alfred were dating. They wanted to keep it quiet until their relationship became a little more serious. Arthur gave a faint smile.

"Hi there, Matt. Lovely seeing you again." He said warmly. It had been a while since he had seen Canada.

"Yeah, its nice to see you too, eh."

America stood up. "Ready to go?" he asked his brother.

"Sure." Matthew replied. Alfred then looked at Arthur.

"You wanna come with?"

Arthur raised one of those signature eyebrows. "Me? Oh no, I don't play hockey.."

Alfred laughed and grabbed Arthur's hand, lifting him off the couch. "You can just watch, maybe skate around a bit. I have extra skates." He smiled.

Well, what could be bad about going to watch? It wouldn't hurt. "Uh...okay."

"Yeah! C'mon, hurry up!" Alfred said excitedly. He walked over to the door and put his boots on. He was happy that Arthur would actually come with him somewhere.

* * *

The cold nipped at the three nations' cheeks, making them all a rosy red color. It was dark as they were walking back to the house. Alfred's shoulder was sore, still sensitive from that stab wound. He was in between Canada and England. His scarf was pulled up over his mouth. Nobody really spoke, making an eerie silence. The only noise was the soft crunching of snow beneath everybody's feet. Arthur suddenly broke the silence with a sneeze.

"Bless you," Alfred and Matthew said almost immediately.

"You getting cold Iggy?" America asked, looking over at the shivering Arthur.

"Yuh huh..." Arthur replied, wrapping his arms around himself. Alfred sighed.

"The house isn't too far away..." He said worriedly. He then took his scarf off and placed it gingerly around Arthur's neck, because he wasn't wearing one in the first place.

"Thank you." Arthur pulled the scarf tight and buried his nose into it, inhaling sharply. He loved the way Alfred smelled; a mix of sharp cologne, coffee, and somehow that sweet smelling aroma of freshly cut grass. He reached over and took Alfred's hand into his, making sure Matthew couldn't see. They were all walking shoulder to shoulder, after all. Alfred flashed a smile at the Brit and intertwined their gloved fingers. Matthew sighed.

"Can I stay the night at your house tonight? Its too late to go back to my place, eh.." He asked Alfred.

"Hmm? Oh, sure. Hope ya don't mind sleeping on the couch?" America replied.

"No, I don't mind. Thank you."

Everybody really did like Alfred, even though it didn't seem like it. Yes, he could be obnoxious a lot but he _really did _mean well. He had a big heart and was always trying to make people happy, and would do anything for the people he cared about. Even strangers he was kind to. He was just that kind of person that everybody loved and talked to. Arthur on the other hand...not so much. Everybody that he knew and loved eventually moved away from his grasp, and he didn't know why. Ever since America left him, he had nothing. That's why he held so much hatred and anger inside, because he had nobody. But when Alfred came back into his life recently, things became better. And when they admitted their love for each other, it was as if Arthur started over. All these things were running through his mind at the moment.

"Yes! There's the house." Alfred suddenly exclaimed. Geez, Arthur must've been thinking for quite a while. Matthew let out a sigh of relief.

"Finally. I was getting really cold."

"Psh, y'all are a bunch of pussies." Alfred joked. The two other countries laughed as they moved closer to the house. When they reached it, America pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. He hurried inside and shook the snow off himself as the other two walked in after him. The three all took off their jackets, boots, and gloves. Matthew then moved to sit on the couch. Alfred sniffled and wiped his runny nose.

"Hang on one sec, I'll get ya a blanket and a pillow, Mattie." he said before dashing up the stairs. Arthur sighed and looked at Matthew, who was now glaring at him.

"What? Whats wrong?" Arthur asked, taken back a bit.

"Don't play stupid with me." Matthew snapped. "I know what you two are up to. And if you hurt Alfred in any way or form, you will _not _see the end of it. Got it?"

Arthur flinched. He had never seen the Canadian in such a mood. Truth was, Matthew had multiple personality disorder. He just never told anyone.

"I would _never_ hurt Alfred." Arthur snarled.

Matthew sneered. "For your sake, I hope so."

Alfred came bounding down the steps with a blanket and pillow in hand. "Here," he said with a smile and handed the items to Matthew.

"Thanks, eh. I'll be going right to bed, so...good night guys." Matthew said. He plopped the pillow down on the couch and then laid down, pulling the large blanket over himself. Alfred nodded and walked back up the stairs. Arthur followed behind, and looked back at Canada. He had an eerie smile on his face, and Arthur got an uneasy feeling in his gut that something wasn't right. He turned back to Alfred and wondered if the American had the feeling that something was wrong as well. Probably not. America didn't pay attention to little details too often anyway.

Soon the two were in bed. Alfred had turned on the TV and put a DVD in for one of his favorite movies: _Frozen. _Yes, Frozen, the cartoon for kids. He absolutely loved it though. He had always had an affinity for Disney movies. He had his eyes on the screen and one arm tightly wrapped around Arthur, who had rested his head on Alfred's chest. He was still thinking about how strange Matthew was acting...how did he know about Arthur and Alfred's relationship, anyway? The thought of Matthew knowing without being told scared him. He pressed his face into Alfred's chest with a sigh.

"Somethin' wrong?" America looked down at the Brit.

"I just...something isn't right about...Matthew..." He replied quietly. "He _knows about us. _I certainly haven't told him, nor have I told anybody, I know you haven't either. Plus when you went to get him a blanket he threatened to do something bad to be if I ever hurt you...and when I was walking up the stairs, he was giving me this creepy smile... I'm kind of worried."

Alfred made a face. "Threatened you? That doesn't seem like Matt..." He paused. "Now that I think of it...he has been acting a little odd lately..."

"Mhmm...I just don't feel right having him around. He should leave first thing in the morning."

"But I can't just be rude. Then he'll know something's up. Just...try to deal with it until he leaves, okay? He's not gonna do anything to you." Alfred said softly.

"Fine, git, but if something happens..."

"Nothing's gonna happen Arthur, I'll make sure of it. Just go to bed." Arthur sighed and gave a slight nod. He then closed his eyes and soon drifted off to sleep, Alfred still awake and watching his movie. Alfred spent quite a long time thinking about Canada. He cringed at the thought of the Canadian in his house, downstairs. He began to wonder what he was doing down there.

* * *

Arthur was quite relieved when he was told that Canada had left. He had slept in rather late, and when he woke up it was around noon. Alfred told him that Matt had left, and that there was nothing to worry about now. The two were in sitting in bed now. It was Sunday and Alfred decided it was going to be his lazy day. Arthur just went along with it. It was awkwardly silent. Alfred kept his gaze fixed on the book-yes, Alfred Jones _read books- _he was reading. Arthur had nothing to do. Out of boredom, he leaned up and placed a kiss on Alfred's lips, trying to make things less awkward. Alfred blushed a bit and looked up from his book. He hadn't really kissed Arthur since the hotel back in Japan. So, he leaned into Arthur and returned the kiss. The Brit draped his arms loosely around the American's neck, crawling forward to straddle Alfred's lap.

Alfred wrapped his muscular arms around Arthur and deepened the kiss. He felt like he was ready to take it a step further. So, he did. He plunged his tongue into Arthur's mouth, who flinched slightly at the sudden intrusion. His tension eased quickly though. He timidly pressed his tongue to Alfred's, letting out a soft moan as he did so.

Alfred was taken back by the sound Arthur made. His face grew ever darker. He pulled away for a moment to breathe, before attacking Arthur's mouth once again. Arthur pushed Alfred onto his back and climbed atop him, hands moving down to Alfred's pants. The American's muscles tensed as Arthur brushed past that oh-so-sensitive area of his. He retaliated by slipping his hands up and underneath Arthur's shirt and pulling away, moving his head down to lick and gently bite Arthur's neck. The Brit let out a moan. He stopped himself from making any more noise again by pressing his lips to Al's and immediately pressing his tongue in. He was just about to pull down Alfred's pants when the American's damned phone started to ring. Alfred groaned and sat up, prompting Arthur to move off him. He grabbed his cellphone from the night stand and answered it.

He quickly walked out of the room, and Arthur made a disappointed face. He sighed and laid back on the bed, pulling the covers over himself. It was quite a while before the American returned back to the room.

"I have a meeting to go to. I'm sorry. Its really important..." He paused. "I'll be back as soon as I can...okay?"

Arthur sighed. Alfred was always needed for this and that. "Fine." He said irritably. "Just be quick.."

America began to walk out of the room, but stopped in the door way. He turned his head back to look at Arthur, and gave a classic American smile. "I love you. See you later." He then turned back and strode out of the bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

**AHHH SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES!))**

"Hey. Hey, American. Wake up. I am needing to talk to you now." Alfred's eyes snapped open. His vision was quite hazy, the world seemed to be spinning around him. He glanced at his surroundings. He was in a small room, with a dim overhead lamp as the only source of lighting. His eyes met with bright purple ones, and he immediately felt sick to his stomach. He attempted to get away but found himself bound in chains. He was tied to the wall, arms hanging limp above his head. He looked downwards and found that his feet were off the ground-just by a few inches. He remembered going to the meeting he was called for, but was only greeted by Russia and Germany when he opened the door to the building. He saw Ludwig lift a small gun and fire it, felt a sharp pain in his left arm, and blacked out. That's when he woke up in this rather unpleasant room. He swung his head to the side and his eyes fell upon the tall German standing there, arms crossed. Russia stood in front of America. He had a sweet smile on his face and his large, blood-covered pipe in hand.

"Hello, Alfred," the Russian man patted Alfred on the head. "You are liking my office, da?" He asked, gesturing to the room around them. Alfred didn't speak. He was dazed, more confused than anything. He didn't quite realize what was happening yet. The only thing that came to mind was his Arthur. Where was he? Was he alright? Russia frowned when he received no answer. He leaned down to meet face to face with the American. "I would rather you answer what I am saying," his breath ghosted across America's cheeks. "Or else you will be sorry, scum." He said unpleasantly. Ludwig made somewhat of a grunting noise and leaned to the side.

"You're gaining too many allies." He said coldly. "So, we're keeping you here until we beat the crap outta you and take over your land. In the mean time..." he bent down and grabbed what looked like a small whip off the floor, "You will be answering our questions. Got it?" It finally clicked in Alfred's head what was happening. He couldn't be kept in here. Who would defend Spain, Switzerland, Japan, and, most importantly, England? They would most certainly come looking for him. That would be a death trap. He prayed to God that they wouldn't come in here and find him. Russia and Germany would kill them so quickly. Russia smiled and batted his pipe against the palm of his hand.

"So, what are your war plans, filthy American?" Ivan hissed. "Are you going to try and get any other countries to join your side?" Alfred still remained silent. He couldn't let anything get out, no matter what the cost. After a few moments of silence, he could tell Ludwig was growing impatient. The German man gritted his teeth and reached over, ripping the American's shirt off.

"Answer us." He growled. America still remained silent. Russia looked at Germany and gave a nod, and the German turned the American around so his bare back was facing him. He then took his whip in hand and flicked his wrist forward, striking Alfred's back with great force. Al let out a cry, a burning sensation ripping through his back. Nonetheless, he didn't say anything coherent.

"I don't like to repeat myself, Alfred, and neither does Ludwig." Russia warned calmly. "We'll ask again: what are your plans? How many allies do you really have?"

Nothing. Just the soft hum of the head lamp above them. Ivan waited a moment before nodding at Ludwig again. The German slashed the whip along Alfred's back once more, causing the American to howl in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and took hoarse breaths. He had only been struck with a whip once before, and that was when he was little. One of the British soldiers decided to punish him for saying the taxes were unfair, and strung America up in public. The poor boy had only his trousers on. People watched as lash after lash fell upon Alfred, until Arthur stepped in and saved him. The British soldier had went ahead and done this without permission, and was severely punished. Alfred was only ten at the time, and you could imagine how badly that must've hurt. But this...this was so much worse. Ivan made a face. He pulled up a chair and sat it infront of the American, and sat so close that Alfred could feel Ivan's breath ghosting across his face.

"You had better speak up, now. I'm getting imaptient, and I'm sure Ludwig is too. Answer my questions." He said in his thick Russian accent. Alfred gritted his teeth and spit into Ivan's face.

"You can pry those answers from my cold, dead body, asshole." He spat, eyes icy. Ivan scowled and wiped the spit off his face before standing and picking up his pipe. He raised it and swung it at Alfred's cheek harshly, causing a crack simalar to the one that sounded when Russia broke America's jaw. Alfred gasped and spat out blood onto the ground, breathing harshly. Ivan swung it again, and once more.

"I am going to make you pay, Alfred! One way or another!" He roared, pushing his chair over and walking to the door. "Ludwig," he said calmly. "Have your fun. I am going now." With that, he walked out. Alfred was gasping in pain now, blood filling his eyes. The red liquid dripped endlessly from his mouth, and his jaw was crooked again. Ludwig gave a smile and cracked the whip down onto Alfred's back again. Ludwig was thoroughly enjoying this.

"Worthless piece of disgusting_ shit_," He hissed as he brought the whip down again and again. "You're so fat, you stupid excuse for a country. Arthur really doesn't love you. He's only using you to protect his people. You really think anybody could ever love a fat ass like you?"

Alfred let out a choked sob.

_It hurts..._

"Y-you're wrong..." He mumbled, blood spilling from his mouth. He looked up a Germany with cold, blue eyes. "And when h-he comes, you'll be sorry." Germany laughed and punched Alfred, hard, in the jaw, causing him to let out a loud cry.

"Shut up. Talk again and I'll cut out that tongue of yours." And with that, America fell silent and let Germany beat him.

By the end of the night, Alfred was beyond unconcious. Not dead, no, but dangerously close. His back was raw and bleeding, his face was bruised, swollen, and caked with his own blood. He was left hanging in the cold, dark room, while Russia and Germany had to leave. After about an hour of hanging there alone, the door burst open.

"Alfred!" A familiar british voice shouted. Arthur Kirkland stepped into the room, two policemen at his back. He saw Alfred hanging there and let out a squeak. "Alfred!" He cried again, running forward and untying Alfred's hands. He held the American close to his chest and let out a sob, while Al cracked his eyes open.

"A...Artie...?" He asked softly. Arthur was horrified to see his American's current state.

"Yes, yes it's me Alfred, I'm here." He said in a soothing voice, stroking Alfred's blood-stained hair. "I'm so sorry I let this happen...I...I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

Alfred groaned. "N...not...your f-fault..." he then looked up to see that Arthur was bleeding from several deep cuts on his face, and had a swollen eye. "Y-you're hurt..." He said, blood sputtering out of his mouth. Arthur lightly kissed the American.

"I'm alright, Love. You should be worrying about yourself..." Actually, Arthur had been wounded trying to get in. Russia had popped up with a knife and cut him a few times, before the cops had come and arrested Ivan once again. He felt horrid, because he promised nothing bad would happen to Alfred, yet here he was, bruised and bleeding. Alfred's vision went hazy and he lost conciousness again.

* * *

The American had refused to let the paramedics put him in the hospital. He was instead laying in bed at his house, and Arthur had volunteered to take care of him. He had to get his jaw rewired and had quite a few stitches in his back from the whip. He also had a bandage wrapped tightly around his head and around one eye. The eye had been severely damaged, because Ivan shattered Alfred's glasses into it. Arthur, however, had only a few stitches in his face where he had been cut. Other than that he made it out okay. Much better than Alfred did, anyway.

Arthur lay next to Alfred in his bed, holding his hand tightly. It was three days after the...incedent. Al came in and out of conciousness randomly, as he would for the next week or so. Arthur looked at the sleeping American, and couldn't help but feel a bit guilty to look at that disfigured jaw. If he would've just came sooner he could've stopped this from happening entirely.

"Arthur." Alfred groaned, tightening his grip on the Brit's hand. Arthur openeded his eyes and looked at Alfred, the moonlight painting his face and accenting his features.

"Yes...?"

"It hurts..."

Arthur cringed. He rolled onto his side and delecately wrapped his arms around the American, being careful to avoid his sensitive wounds. "I know, I know...I'm sorry Alfred..." He cooed. Alfred leaned into Arthur's touch and rested his head on the Brit's chest.

"I love you, Iggy..." He mumbled, closing his eyes. He was overwhelmingly happy that Arthur hadn't suffered too many wounds from Ivan, after all, this was his fault. If anything was to happen to _anybody,_ he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he believed that deserved what had happened. He was starting to believe what Ludwig was telling him.

"I love you, too..." Britain kissed America's forehead. "Now, please try to get back to sleep, love...you need all the rest you can get..."

"W...wait, Arthur?""

"Hmm?"

"Do...do you..._really _love me...?" Alfred asked quietly.

Arthur was shocked. Germany or Russia must've said some nonsense.

_Why the hell would he ask that...?_

"Of course! Why wouldn't I...?"

"Ludwig t-told me that you don't love me, and that you're just using me...he said that nobody would love a fat ass like me..." Alfred sniffled and buried his head deeper into Arthur's chest, who was equally angry and pitiful.

"You really believe that...?" He asked, hurt by the fact that there was doubt in their relationship.

There was a long silence before Alfred spoke again. "I don't know what to believe..." he whispered shakily. Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing. With one swift movement, he leaned forward and gently kissed Alfred for quite a long while. Finally he pulled back.

"I love you with all of my heart, Alfred. I never stopped. Don't ever think otherwise, because I'll never leave you." He said softly, brushing his lips against Al's.

Alfred felt a wave of relief wash over him. His cheeks turned a light pink. "Good...cause I love you too..."

"Alright, then. Good night."

After hearing what had happened, Matthew immediately came to Alfred's house. He slept downstairs, like last time. Japan and Switzerland were at his house too, to make sure nothing else would go wrong. Matt was really protective of his brother and couldn't help but feel a little angry at Arthur. As soon as he arrived, he started to yell at Arthur, who simply explained it wasn't his fault. The Brit really didn't want to deal with Matthew but had to put up with it for Alfred. These past months had been crazy for him. He was depressed yet euphoric at the same time. Well, let's see...Alfred had confessed his love for the Brit, and the two ended up together. But of course things had to happen to Alfred to mix in that feeling of sadness. Not to mention the whole war situation wasn't getting anywhere. Neither side was loosing but neither side was quite winning, either.

Canada ended up staying longer than he should've. He insisted on staying until Alfred was healed up, which ended up being two weeks. He felt that Arthur would do an inadequate job at taking care of his brother, which made the Brit livid. Al enjoyed having Matthew there with him though. This also made Arthur angry.

"Well, if you want him here instead of me so badly, I'll just go back home!" Arthur shouted as he put on his jacket. Alfred had a hurt expression on his face, standing by the couch and watching Arthur grab his things.

"Arthur...you know it's not like that." He said quietly, not wanting to raise his voice.

"Oh? Is it not? Then tell him to leave!"

"I can't do that! He's my brother!"

Arthur grunted and opened the door. "Just call me when you've decided who you want around more." He stepped outside.

"Why the hell are you being so selfish? Its not my fault he wants to be around his family. I'm starting to see why he doesn't trust you..." Alfred glared at Arthur briefly, but the glare twisted back into that of a sad look. Arthur's heart sank. He wanted Alfred to grab him and pull him away from the door and kiss him like he did the one night at the hotel in Japan.

"If that's the way you feel, then I'll be going. Goodbye, Alfred."

America instantly regretted what he said. "But...you said you'd never leave me..." He said in a hurt tone.

_Please don't leave me. Don't go. I love you._

Arthur cringed, remembering his promise. "That was before you replaced me. Now, goodbye. I'll be sure to join Russia's allies." He said coldly, before walking outside and shutting the door behind him.

Alfred crumbled to his knees and began to cry. "Arthur! Don't go!" He shouted to the door, even though Arthur was already walking down the street by now. He felt like he could just crawl into a hole and die. That was it. He had snapped.

_He hates me._


End file.
